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Chez Pim advertisement policy. Please read.

I am getting sick and tired of deleting comments by spammers, so I've decided to put together a Chez Pim advertising policy. Since many of you spammers have seen fit to advertise your products, sites, and services on my blog, I will now charge a fee for such advertisement.

Please read. Your advertisement, links or trackback pings on this blog after this notice is posted must follow the following policy.

You may advertise your products, sites, and/or services by linking the URL on Chez Pim comment box, but you will be charged a fee of 1,000 US Dollars for each instant of advertisement, URL link, or trackback ping on Chez Pim.

Your payment must be made in the form of a $1,000 donation to the Chez Pim Spare us a grain of rice campaign by clicking on the rice button on the top left hand corner of this blog or right here. Your payment is due within one day of posting your advertisement on Chez Pim.

Any new advertisement in the form of URL links or trackback pings to Chez Pim after the time stamp of this post is subject to this notice.

PS. Don't think I'm not going to pursue your sorry behinds on this. I will. I'm sure I can find a collection agency who will be more than happy to track you down, especially since I plan to give them all the money—that is a thousand bucks for each comment spam, people.

(PPS. Not-for-profit blogs and bloggers are exempt from this policy. Link away.)

Choo-chee Scallops, scallops in curry sauce

I cooked again last night. It's such a rare occurrence now it warrants blogging about. Just so people don't forget I still know my way around a kitchen--even in someone else's.

Last night was in Sylvia's kitchen, sort of an impromptu dinner with whatever we had around. It was Pierre's idea to stop at Bryan's for some beautiful scallops before we went to Sylvia's house. We also brought a bunch of this and that left in his fridge from the dinner I made last weekend—a few spoonfuls of red curry paste, a can of coconut milk, a stalk of lemongrass, a bunch of Thai basil, kaffir lime leaves, and some snow peas. There were also some cherry tomatoes I bought last weekend at the farmer's market on a reflex—I see pretty tomatoes, I buy pretty tomatoes.

I laid the ingredients down on the counter and let them speak to me. They whispered "scallops with curry sauce with jasmine rice and stir-fried snow peas on the side", so that's what for dinner.

Actually, you should have seen Pierre's face when I suggested that we make curry sauce for the scallops. Being ever-so-French, he was horrified that I would drown those beautiful scallops in pungent curry sauce until they no longer tasted like what they were supposed to. Huh, he had so little faith in me. Though the sauce I used was based on the rather strong red curry paste, I added some citrus notes from lime leaves and lemongrass to compliment the seafood taste of the scallops. It was made intentionally mild, and tempered even further with some sweet cherry tomatoes. It turned out beautifully, if I dare say so myself. So much so that the same guy who was rolling his eyes at me when I suggested the menu insisted on calling the dish Scallop Curry à la Pierre!

"La montagne de l'âme" utterly engrossing

50 pages into Gao Xingjian's "La montagne de l'âme" that I began reading yesterday.

beautiful, lyrical, vivid, nostalgic prose--I am absolutely in love with this book.

The book is 700 pages long. It will take me a year to finish--since I am reading the French translation instead of the English one--but I am sure it will be entirely worth it.

Here's Gao Xingjian on nostalgia, in an old courtyard of his childhood...

Sur le toit, les herbes sèches ou vivantes, blanches ou vertes, se balancent doucement au vent. Cela fait combien d'années que tu n'as pas revu ces herbes sur les toits? Pieds nus, tu fais claquer tes pas sur les dalles de pierre profondément marquées par les traces des roues des brouettes et tu émerges de ton enfance, tu émerges dans le présent."

Isn't that beautiful?

The book is written in normal tenses, not in passé simple, and uses first and second person pronouns instead of names, making it amazingly engrossing, grabbing your attention and not letting go. (That the book is not written in passé simple also has a side effect of making it much easier to read with my mediocre French.) I am hooked.

I may not be able to blog at all until I am done! Sorry folks.

encore at Manresa, with Chez Pim's first guest blogger, Liz

I was at chef David Kinch's wonderful restaurant Manresa again last week, this time bringing some serious gourmets, namely Liz and John, and my dear friend Matthew, with me.

And by serious I do mean Serious. No kidding. If you think I knew anything about haute cuisine, think again. I don't, really, at least not when compared to Liz and her husband John, who go on their au stomach trips, as they call them, every year to Europe, hitting practically every two-three star places on their path. They have both eaten at every single 3 star places in France, most more than once. And they are practically on first name basis with starred chefs all over France. They've recently told me, very kindly, that next time I go to Paris and want to revisit Gagnaire I should let them know. They will tell Pierre to expect me. Yes, that Pierre.

Besides the obvious educational benefit to be gained from dining with Liz and John, they are also such delightful company. We had such a wonderful time, with the superb food, the attentive and impeccable service, and with each other's company. So much so that the night, which started at 7.30 and didn't end until half past one, went by like magic.

David, the chef, really outdid himself. We were completely blown away. The last time I was there with other friends, we had a good meal, but this time it was stupendous, and, yes, the cliché, sublime. Every ingredient was of the best quality, every taste distinct, hitting every note perfectly, forming a wondrous symphony. He left nothing to chance, every bite, every drop of sauce, every progression of taste, each completely planned, and worked perfectly and harmoniously. There were one thing or two that were perhaps too assertively tasting, the bone marrow on the beef, for example, but it would just be nitpicky to pick on those, as the meal, taken as a whole, was indeed marvelous.

I am so very honored to announce that Liz, who writes amazing and vivid narratives on her annual au stomach trips, has agreed to be the very first guest blogger on Chez Pim. The post below is her wonderful recounting of our meal at Manresa.

Take it away, Lizzie….

Manresa - Along for the Ride with Pim and Matthew by Liz Haskell

Manresa - Along for the Ride with Pim and Matthew

by Liz

What better way to sample David Kinch's cuisine at Manresa than with the indomitable Pim. To say she is a whirlwind is an understatement. The evening was as enjoyable for food as it was for company. In addition to Pim, we were lucky to have Pim's good friend, Matthew. He wasn't quite as pretty, but he was equally as enjoyable and knowledgeable about everything from food to computers to just about any topic that we could come up with.

We had made the trip from LA in under five hours. This gave us plenty of time to explore Los Gatos, a sleepy residential neighborhood with upscale food shops (Sur La Table and William Sonoma), antiques, a Rolls Royce dealership and multiple restaurants, but none high end except for Manresa.

In sweats and looking definitely sloppy, we decided to peak in Manresa about 3:30, 4 hours before our reservation. David Kinch, the chef was at the door and we immediately starting comparing "who do you know" games plus a discussion of tonight's meal. He said he felt definite pressure when he knew Pim was on the books -- he worked really hard on her menu. We were lucky to be along for the ride.

I'm afraid I've gone mad..

I have gone mad. Mad, I tell you, stark, raving, walking around dazed, having loud public arguments with imaginary friends mad.

I've just canceled my Friday lunch at the French Laundry because I had too much work and couldn't take Friday off. I am snowed under with work, and will be heading out to NY for two days of meeting early next week. There's no way I could take Friday off for the lunch. ARGHHHH... I hate being so damn responsible.

I need to rearrange my priorities. You think?

Pim's strawberry shortcake

I haven't posted anything I made myself in so long I wonder if anyone still thinks I could cook!  Anyway, I made strawberry shortcake the other day for Chiraz's lovely party.  The recipe hasn't been posted yet, so here it is.

This is actually my scone recipe, which, like my Madeleine recipe, is result of lots of trials and errors.  I started with a number of different recipes from many sources, but couldn't find one that I like, so I finally settled on one of my own.

I weigh my ingredients instead of measuring.  I made that conversion a long time ago.  And let me tell you, if you haven't yet, do it.  You will love me for it.  Well, then again you may love me already, :-) in which case you would love me even more.

A tribute to Neruda, part II, about food this time

An Ode to Conger Chowder
Pablo Neruda, (1904 - 1973)

In the storm-tossed
Chilean
sea
lives the rosy conger,
giant eel
of snowy flesh.
And in Chilean
stewpots,
along the coast,
was born the chowder,
thick and succulent,
a boon to man.
You bring the conger, skinned,
to the kitchen

A tribute to Pablo Neruda: on his 100th birthday

Not about food today chez Pim. In case you've forgotten, today is the centennial of Pablo Neruda, who won the Nobel Prize in literature in 1971. I think it will be fun to do have my little tribute to him by posting one of my favorite poems by him.

In his Soneto XVII, I found some of the most beautiful verses ever written about love.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know of no other way

than this, in which I do not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall into a dream.

What other kind of love is there but this?

I am such a romantic, I know. Neruda poems make me want to learn Spanish. I might still, perhaps after I rescue my French from mediocrity.

Marc Veyrat in Paris!

Now this is interesting. Le Figaro reported today that Marc Veyrat, of the fabled la Ferme de Mon Père in Megève and L'Auberge de l'Eridan in Annecy, has finally found a location in Paris, in the 17e arrondissement, for his private “taste laboratory” that will also be open for the public during certain times.

This will, apparently, be a place for the chef's own amusement, with about ten seats or so, which will likely be open during the time that the two restaurants in Haute-Savoie are closed, that is to say Monday to Wednesday.

The search for the Paris address, which finally ended at 17 Avenue Niel, has taken him four years, so this place has better be good. I can't wait to see if he will do a dish with les arômes de Paris. What scintillating aromas they could be, I shall leave that to your imagination!!

And one more thing...haven't Clotilde and I just had that conversation just a little bit back? About how the 17e was becoming quite a gastronomic neighbourhood, remember? What can I say? We told you so. :-)

You can visit Le Figaro to read the whole story. It is in French, naturellement, but it's easy enough for Google to do the job, probably.